featuring Six-Out


sea salt in open wounds
and your lips kissing tension like
full moon sonatas. truck bed temptress
teasing the stars to dance in heartbeat motion.
the tide is coming in
and we're sitting on the edge of creation.

hand in hand. no city lights- dear
the diamonds play piano notes in the water
and when the waves crash out of tune
I can feel your pulse in my palm.

but it's erratic, that steady beat
like a car with no drivers, like the
unpredictable twists of an ocean
with no sand. your kiss, leaving me
bruised as the stars dance, folding into
the wind and creating these universes
for you and I to dance in. if you
could just hold me in your hands
for a little longer, the world
would have meaning

and there's magic in the way our fingers interlace
lips speaking tidal waves, and you
taking the stars hostage in your eyes.
because you breed dreams when you stare at me
in that way. passion needs pen and paper
to take notes- you're the standard of beauty.

like hands upon hands interlacing to create
flowers upon the sands, as we're
lying on the roof of a truck
and become part of the stars
we can become immortal
in each other's eyes, as the earth decays
into a hurricane of violence

and I'm content with erosion.
while the world falls apart.

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